Strong wind sweeps through Bend,
and a string of rainy days
Feels more like Portland than the high desert today
I feel the pull of autumn,
run out of reasons to stay inside
So I hide myself in a hood,
and I take limping strides.
My mind wanders from counting all of the leaves that have died
To the loves I have fought for, lost, or threw into the outgoing tide
I think of the times my tongue was so tied,
and the many more times I let regretful words fly
The times my heart was so brave, but my body was not
All of the blows I took to avoid certain thoughts
I remember the taste of blood in my mouth, hot breath, the painful sting,
Leaving my body for hours, I remember EVERYTHING.
But I also recall the hands that lifted me up, the listening ears, the words, “i believe you,” being held through my tears.
I’m looking back on it all
It’s what I do in the Fall…
I search for glimmers of hope, as the layers of grief begin to erode,
I put it all in the petals of a purple rose,
throw it up in the air,
and watch it explode.
Leah R. Chatterjee